


Serenading the Bard

by ficsandcatsandficsandcats



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23959105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficsandcatsandficsandcats/pseuds/ficsandcatsandficsandcats
Summary: Reader Request: Could you do one where the reader has been secretly trying to learn the lute, and write a love song for Jaskier's attention? She gets up the nerve to perform it for him but messes up under pressure and gets embarrassed?
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion & Reader
Kudos: 4





	Serenading the Bard

It was the principle of the thing, really. Jaskier spent all of his time following Geralt around and singing of his great attributes and accomplishments. One evening as you watched another brilliant performance you thought about what a great shame it was that there was no one to sing of the bard. And then the idea hit you and it took hold deeper than any idea you’d had before. It would serve two purposes; one, it would put on the record the many wonderful things Jaskier had done and two, it would give you a chance to finally confess the feelings you’d been harboring for ages. You didn’t know when your crush had turned into a deep affection which turned into love, but you knew there was no point in pretending anymore. You loved Jaskier and you would tell him in a language just for him.

The fact you didn’t know how to play the lute didn’t daunt you in the slightest. Jaskier may have been the best player around but he wasn’t the only one and you were quickly able to find someone to give you secret lessons. Jaskier noticed you were around less but you assured him you were just busy handling errands or work of your own and he seemed to let well enough alone and let you continue to hone your craft. Your tutor also helped you compose a melody as you worked on lyrics that could possibly convey the feelings you held for him. When the piece was finished you were equal parts excited and terrified. With an impending journey coming up soon and a free evening for yourself and Jaskier you knew it was now or never.

“Are you alright? You’re very pale,” Jaskier said, eyeing you worriedly.

“I’m great! Perfect!” you assure him, your voice an octave higher than usual as you take another gulp of the wine you were drinking to fortify your nerves. You saw your tutor enter, holding the package and waving happily at you and you quickly excused yourself to meet him.

“Remember to hold your fingers straight but not too rigid and to breathe between words. You’ve really learned quite quickly and you should be proud of yourself,” the man said kindly. You tried to take his words to heart and unwrapped the lute you would use to perform tonight. There was only a small group, thankfully, but everybextra pair of eyes felt hot on you as you walked to the center of the tavern. You didn’t know how Jaskier did this every night, much less enjoyed it, but you were determined.

“Excuse me, gentlefolk,” you begin. Jaskier turns in his seat and when he sees you holding the lute a confused smile lights up his face.

“Tonight, with your permission, I will perform a song I have written for someone… very dear to me. You may know this man. Actually, you certainly know this man,” you say.

“A new tale of the witcher!” a voice cries out in excitement.

“No, no, not him. Tonight, I am singing about Jaskier, the Wandering Bard,” you announce. There is a small murmur of discontent but Jaskier’s face is glowing with delight as he leans closer, eyes glued to you as you take a deep breath and hold the lute the way you’d been taught. The first strum is strong and melodious, and it gives you courage. The next chords follow suit and you begin to sing.

“Oh hear my tale all gathered ‘round

Of a hero oft unsung

Of his glory and his world renown

From the girl whose heart he’s won”

Your finger slips on the last word and you quickly try to reposition your fingers on the lute as told, trying to ignore the snickers from the crowd and not daring to look at Jaskier’s face.

“For every journey he transforms

Into lovely prose and melody

He is there to face the storms

Just as brave as his known company”

You’ve always hated that imperfect rhyme and you feel warm around the collar, fingers growing slick with sweat and sliding down the lute making chords warp wrong and sour. You can hear your breathing and are certain everyone in the inn can as well. You glance up and see eyes that look bored and amused and Jaskier’s soft blue eyes smiling at you encouragingly. You curse yourself for the ridiculous number of verses you wrote and decide to skip to the end.

“So that’s my story and you know

The value we cannot disregard

So when he next puts on a show

Toss a coin to your brave bard.”

There is utter silence as you hold the lute by your side and you feel your body turning and moving to the exit of its own accord, trying to keep yourself from embarrassing yourself further by running. Once you leave the tavern you keep walking, not sure where you’re going, just trying to put space between yourself and the mortifying silence that still rings in your ears.

“Wait! Y/N!” you hear a familiar voice shouting behind you, but you don’t slow down.

“Y/N I’m talking to you!” the voice is a bit closer and you know you could outrun him but you just march until he runs up in front of you, arms outstretched to block you with his body.

“Y/N, where are you going?” Jaskier asks.

“I don’t know,” you admit.

“Well then perhaps you could come back?”

“I can’t go back there,” you say, casting your eyes downward.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“What’s wrong? You must be joking, I just made an utter ass of myself,” you exclaim.

“Is that what you think just happened?”

“What do you mean is that what I think? It’s what happened! I made an awful mess of it, I skipped half the verses, actually more than half, I really did write far too many of them and then everyone just sat there and it was awful and oh gods Jaskier I just thought… I just wanted to do something nice for you and to tell you…” your voice trails off and he reaches out a hand and cautiously grasps your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze and pulling you a bit closer.

“Well I think what happened is that you wrote a beautiful song and had the outrageous courage to perform it in front of people. And if people don’t like it, fuck them. I’ve had people pelt me with bread but I’m still the best bard in Redania. Well, the best bard for now. I see I have some real competition,” he says this with a wink and a smile and you’re charmed despite yourself.

“Don’t make fun, I tried really hard but it’s nothing like what you can do,” you reply.

“Sweetling do you know how long I have been playing?” he asks incredulously. You shake your head no but still don’t look him in the eyes.

“I’ve been playing since I could grasp things in my tiny fists. I’ve practiced a great deal and even still my works aren’t met with due appreciation. I loved your song. I very much want to hear those other verses.”

“You don’t have to say that,” you say, though his earnestness brings a smile to your lips.

“I’m serious! In fact, I demand it. This time I get to be the adoring audience and you may play for me,” he says this as he sits on the edge of the fountain in the center of town and you can tell by the stubborn look on his face that he isn’t going to move. With a great reluctant sigh you raise the lute in your hands again and try to find the melody again. Jaskier watches for a moment as you grow more irritated and then rises and walks over to you, standing behind you as he helps you position the instrument, his fingers gently covering yours.

His face is close to your shoulder and you can feel the warmth of his breath on your neck.

“I would especially like to hear more about this heart I’ve won,” he mutters quietly.

He can feel your body stiffen next to his and he gently turns you around to face him.

“I should feel like an ass, though,” he says with a deep sigh, “I thought I’d have more time to finish my song for you but here you’ve beat me to it.”

You open your mouth and then close it again and then his mouth is on yours and the song and the crowd and everything in the world melts away except for Jaskier and your newly confessed love.


End file.
